Do you ever just have one of those weekends where a combination of small events throws you off in such a way that there's nowhere to go but down? And on the way, all of those small, seemingly insignificant things knock into you, slowly beating you down until they seem more terrible than they really are.
That's the kind of weekend I'm having. The crap started piling up Saturday morning and it keeps getting deeper. The details aren't important, at least, they won't be to you. Nothing personal. I just can't stand to hear myself explain it again.
It hasn't all been bad. I started writing again on Friday. I've been working on projects on and off the last few months, but most of them have been revisions. Revisions are necessary if I ever want to pursue publication, and sometimes they're just what I need, but there's nothing like creating something new. It takes something out of me, but in a good way. It gets me to a place in my head where all of the small stuff doesn't bother me anymore. I like that place. I think I should visit it more often.
-Liz
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
*Flips hair*
Every once in a while, I come across someone who "gets it". And by "it" I mean writing. Most of the time they are a fellow author, so it's to be expected. But sometimes, I'm pleasantly surprised by the general public.
As someone who gets a little too excited when she talks about her characters, I can understand why I look like I forgot to take my medication. Get me on the subject of writing and I can ramble for hours. Show a remote interest in my work, and you'll get a rundown of the last ten years of creation. I'm fanatical. I freely admit it. And this is why most of my friends are writers.
This weekend I spent time with someone who isn't a writer, but sympathizes. He let me rant and rave and ramble to my heart's content about plot twists and character flaws and the ins and outs of the publishing industry. I didn't tone it down. I didn't censor myself. Ten minutes into the conversation I was waving a plastic spoon (thankfully, the ice cream stayed on the table) wildly and explaining why the song 'I Whip My Hair Back and Forth' goes through my head every time I think of one of my favorite characters.
And he was fine with it.
Not to insult the general public, but I often try to talk about what I do (as writing is a big part of my life and people tend to ask, "Oh, what have you been up to?") their eyes glaze over and they quickly change the subject. Or they offer me advice that really doesn't fit with the situation, which they would know if they'd been listening to the last five minutes of conversation. So, it's refreshing to find someone who not only doesn't mind the incessant rambling, but seems to enjoy it. He was interested.
And that's just fabulous :)
-Liz
As someone who gets a little too excited when she talks about her characters, I can understand why I look like I forgot to take my medication. Get me on the subject of writing and I can ramble for hours. Show a remote interest in my work, and you'll get a rundown of the last ten years of creation. I'm fanatical. I freely admit it. And this is why most of my friends are writers.
This weekend I spent time with someone who isn't a writer, but sympathizes. He let me rant and rave and ramble to my heart's content about plot twists and character flaws and the ins and outs of the publishing industry. I didn't tone it down. I didn't censor myself. Ten minutes into the conversation I was waving a plastic spoon (thankfully, the ice cream stayed on the table) wildly and explaining why the song 'I Whip My Hair Back and Forth' goes through my head every time I think of one of my favorite characters.
And he was fine with it.
Not to insult the general public, but I often try to talk about what I do (as writing is a big part of my life and people tend to ask, "Oh, what have you been up to?") their eyes glaze over and they quickly change the subject. Or they offer me advice that really doesn't fit with the situation, which they would know if they'd been listening to the last five minutes of conversation. So, it's refreshing to find someone who not only doesn't mind the incessant rambling, but seems to enjoy it. He was interested.
And that's just fabulous :)
-Liz
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Enemies
I have a new adversary. Its name is tendonitis. I could have gotten it anywhere. But it struck in a foul place: my right elbow. I'm right-handed, so this is not only inconvenient, it's painful pretty much all of the time.
It could have been prevented, but I'm stubborn. I work all possible injuries into medical emergencies. I don't do anything in moderation. It's all or nothing. And I blame writing.
Well, not really writing. Writing, more specifically the way I write, is just a symptom. I have that kind of personality. Sometimes that's great for writing. I can sit down and edit half a novel in one go. But there is the other side of that (the nothing portion of the 'all or nothing'), which frequently means that that novel I'm editing has probably been sitting there for three months.
So, it looks like I need rehab in multiple areas.
And that life is certainly interesting when high doses of ibuprofen are involved.
-Liz
It could have been prevented, but I'm stubborn. I work all possible injuries into medical emergencies. I don't do anything in moderation. It's all or nothing. And I blame writing.
Well, not really writing. Writing, more specifically the way I write, is just a symptom. I have that kind of personality. Sometimes that's great for writing. I can sit down and edit half a novel in one go. But there is the other side of that (the nothing portion of the 'all or nothing'), which frequently means that that novel I'm editing has probably been sitting there for three months.
So, it looks like I need rehab in multiple areas.
And that life is certainly interesting when high doses of ibuprofen are involved.
-Liz
Monday, June 6, 2011
Getting My Tech On
Okay, so I've been watching far too many episodes of Dollhouse. It is wickedly delicious in all things mad scientist, and as a sci-fi writer, I have to tip my hat to Joss Whedon.
A conspiracy theory based on brainwashing might not be a new idea, but it's always nice to see a different take on it. I'm a big fan of this because I wrote a novel (okay, it's technically a novella until I add three thousand words), about it. Well, sort of. It was before I saw Dollhouse (which I started watching this weekend- thank you Netflix for sucking up hours of free time that could have been better spent writing a masterpiece that will earn me millions someday in the near future), and there aren't all that many similarities, but still. It's a good topic. Maybe it's not original, but there's nothing wrong with putting a little shine on old reliable.
I bring this up with a purpose. Dollhouse (and all shows like it) are all about technology. I am embracing technology. How am I doing this? By putting a new "follow me" link in the sidebar, that's how!
I admit it's shameless advertising, but how else am I going to do it? So, yeah. Click it, follow me, say nice things. Or don't. Say nasty things (though I'd prefer if you didn't), or maybe just friend me to prevent further posts such as these. It might save you from the rambling.
But probably not.
-Liz
A conspiracy theory based on brainwashing might not be a new idea, but it's always nice to see a different take on it. I'm a big fan of this because I wrote a novel (okay, it's technically a novella until I add three thousand words), about it. Well, sort of. It was before I saw Dollhouse (which I started watching this weekend- thank you Netflix for sucking up hours of free time that could have been better spent writing a masterpiece that will earn me millions someday in the near future), and there aren't all that many similarities, but still. It's a good topic. Maybe it's not original, but there's nothing wrong with putting a little shine on old reliable.
I bring this up with a purpose. Dollhouse (and all shows like it) are all about technology. I am embracing technology. How am I doing this? By putting a new "follow me" link in the sidebar, that's how!
I admit it's shameless advertising, but how else am I going to do it? So, yeah. Click it, follow me, say nice things. Or don't. Say nasty things (though I'd prefer if you didn't), or maybe just friend me to prevent further posts such as these. It might save you from the rambling.
But probably not.
-Liz
Friday, June 3, 2011
Bad Blogger!
Okay, I admit it. As of late, I have been a very bad blogger. I havent been posting regularly and I certainly haven't been keeping up with anyone else's posts. But I have a reason. And that reason involves mortgage companies.
I know, I know. I should make a posting schedule and stick to it. But let's be real. I have barely worked on a project in weeks. And we all know how seriously I take procrastinating.
So, what have I been up to?
Contemplating pen names, that's what! No, not my own, but pen names in general. How many of you write under a pen name, or will when the book deals come rolling in?
There are so many things to consider. One, whether or not the name is already in use, and not just by another author. It's important to know whether a certain picture or face will come to mind when someone uses your pen name. If that image belongs to a particularly limber member of the adult film industry, you might want to rethink your choice.
Two, it needs to be a name you can write with ease. We've all pictured those long lines of people crammed into your local book store, all waiting for your John Hancock. You know they'll throw a dust jacket on it the minute they get home and start planning the ebay add. They'll look at your signature on the title page of your first edition and see dollar signs.
But how awkward would it be if you couldn't sign your pen name, or worse, it took forever? Short names can be scribbled with ease, meaning your work will get to your adoring fans faster. This is always a plus.
Third, and possibly with the greatest chance of embarassment, it should be a name you respond do. There's nothing more terrifying than the idea of standing backstage on Oprah (or whatever show you choose) and missing your cue because you forgot your own name. This is obviously an exreme example, but there's the potential for red cheeks in lesser situations. It would be equally horrifying if your agent tried to get your attention at a dinner party in order to introduce you to someone important, who otherwise might have loved you and promoted your work had you shown a little interest, and you totally miss it. It's not really like you can say, "No! It's not you! I just forgot who I was." Not the best impression.
What's the verdict? Google. Practice signing your new name (as I'm sure we all have) when you're satisfied that you won't be confused with serial rapist, and choose a name familiar to you.
Keep that in mind and you can't go wrong ;)
-Liz
I know, I know. I should make a posting schedule and stick to it. But let's be real. I have barely worked on a project in weeks. And we all know how seriously I take procrastinating.
So, what have I been up to?
Contemplating pen names, that's what! No, not my own, but pen names in general. How many of you write under a pen name, or will when the book deals come rolling in?
There are so many things to consider. One, whether or not the name is already in use, and not just by another author. It's important to know whether a certain picture or face will come to mind when someone uses your pen name. If that image belongs to a particularly limber member of the adult film industry, you might want to rethink your choice.
Two, it needs to be a name you can write with ease. We've all pictured those long lines of people crammed into your local book store, all waiting for your John Hancock. You know they'll throw a dust jacket on it the minute they get home and start planning the ebay add. They'll look at your signature on the title page of your first edition and see dollar signs.
But how awkward would it be if you couldn't sign your pen name, or worse, it took forever? Short names can be scribbled with ease, meaning your work will get to your adoring fans faster. This is always a plus.
Third, and possibly with the greatest chance of embarassment, it should be a name you respond do. There's nothing more terrifying than the idea of standing backstage on Oprah (or whatever show you choose) and missing your cue because you forgot your own name. This is obviously an exreme example, but there's the potential for red cheeks in lesser situations. It would be equally horrifying if your agent tried to get your attention at a dinner party in order to introduce you to someone important, who otherwise might have loved you and promoted your work had you shown a little interest, and you totally miss it. It's not really like you can say, "No! It's not you! I just forgot who I was." Not the best impression.
What's the verdict? Google. Practice signing your new name (as I'm sure we all have) when you're satisfied that you won't be confused with serial rapist, and choose a name familiar to you.
Keep that in mind and you can't go wrong ;)
-Liz
Friday, May 20, 2011
Comedic Interlude
So, I haven't posted much this week. To make up for it (or perhaps I'm just being lazy) I'm going to share an excerpt from my current labor of love, a revision of the novel Runaway, which is a sequel to Chosen, the novel I posted a bit from last time. This piece once again features Jaden and Thor, best friends and trouble makers.
This piece takes place in a cell, where the two buds are being held captive and slowly starving to death. I know that sounds depressing, but it really isn't. At least, they still manage to find a little humor in it.
“Hey, Jay-Jay?” Thor said, breaking the silence.
“Hmm?”
“I have to piss.”
Jaden scoffed somewhere beyond his line of vision. “Congratulations.”
“No, I mean I have to piss.”
“So, piss.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I can’t get up.”
“Have you tried?”
Thor ignored the condescending tone in his friend’s voice. “Of course I’ve tried.”
“Well, what do you want me to do about it?”
“Help.”
“Help how?”
“Just…help.”
“Thor, I’m not helping you take a piss.”
“If I was drunk, you’d do it.”
“If you were drunk, you’d already have wet pants.”
“Jay-Jay,” he whined.
“I hate it when you do that with your voice.”
“I need you to help.” Thor hoped his tone expressed complete desperation. He didn’t feel far from it.
“Oh, fine.” Thor heard Jaden grunt several times as he got up from his own pile of dirty hay. His dirt-streaked face appeared above him moments later. “You’re such a baby,” he said, taking hold of Thor’s bony arm.
Thor tried not to look at the skin stretched too tightly over his limbs. “We have to get out of here.”
“What are we going to do?” Jaden asked, supporting his friend as they shuffled toward the stinking bucket in the corner. “Make a break for it?”
“The thought crossed my mind.”
“You can’t even take a piss on your own. How the hell are you going to run for your life?”
Thor’s breathing was already labored and they weren’t quite halfway across the cell yet. “I’ll ride piggyback.”
“On who?”
“On you.”
“Ha. We’ll never make it out.”
“I have faith in you, Jay-Jay.”
“That’s wonderful, but you better be able to take care of business once we make it to that bucket.”
“I’m not that tired.”
“I never know with you, man. Sometimes you make me wonder if all those accidental nude sightings were really accidental.”
Thor pushed him away. “That’s it. I’m peeing on my own from now on.”
Jaden laughed. “You’re such a drama queen.”
“Yeah, yeah, turn around, buddy,” Thor said as he approached the bucket. “No free shows for you.”
Jaden obliged.
“Ahh,” Thor sighed as he finished. “Much better.”
“Don’t forget to shake.”
“I got it, thanks.”
“Just making sure.”
Thor ensured that all things were tucked in their proper places before turning around. He wrapped an arm around Jaden. “We need to get out of here.”
Jaden crinkled up his nose. “You didn’t wash your hands.”
“What do you think this is? A luxury hotel?”
“Well, you don’t have to touch me.”
Thor rubbed his hands up and down Jaden’s arms.
The dark-haired man jumped back, shrieking in disgust.
Thor roared with laughter. “Oh,” he said, wiping his eyes. “That was priceless.”
“That was disgusting,” Jaden said, trying to wipe off the germs.
“I so needed that.”
“Glad I could help.”
“Oh, Jay-Jay,” he said with a happy sigh, “You make me want to love you, man.”
“All right,” Jaden said, rolling down his shirt sleeves as if to ward off future attacks, “But next time you have to buy me dinner first.”
Did you smile just a little?
- Liz
Sunday, May 15, 2011
....Something Completely Different
So, apparently I'm a freak. This doesn't come as a complete surprise, as I already knew I was strange, but now I'm officially in uncharted territory.
My best friend is home from school for a few days. We got together yesterday, did a little shopping, went out to lunch, and caught up on all of the horrible things that have happened since we last spoke. We went back to her place around 7:30p and she invited another friend over, someone I went to high school with (though she was a few years ahead of me), but hadn't seen in quite some time.
It was a little awkward, but I can deal with that. My best friend had mentioned this person was working on a book (she's going to grad school so she can teach creative writing) and I thought, "Ooo! Common ground!" She had done a reading just the night before. Upon learning about this, I thought that maybe this reunion could open new doors for me. Perhaps she and I would get along and I might meet a few more creative people. She's always been into the art crowd. I figured this could be good.
Unfortunately, she and I are both writers, but that's where the similarities stop. I write fiction; she writes nonfiction. I've completed a decent number of manuscripts; she's still working on her first. I never really had formal training; she's getting her master's. The list goes on and on.
She spoke about how unmotivated she is to finish her project. How she keeps making deadlines that never pan out. She'd spent the entire day writing. And I tried to sympathize. But the problem is, I don't really have those issues. I don't make deadlines because I don't need to make deadlines. If I'm going to write, I'm going to write, and I'll produce several thousand words in a matter of hours, and have them edited before I close up shop. I have no problem coming up with story lines that span multiple books. And I'm fairly young, so I'm not all that worried about rushing to get published right now.
The more we talked, the more I realized that those great ideas I had weren't going to pan out. And that's okay. Everyone is different. I might not click with her, but I click with plenty of other people.
And then I had a few drinks and started commenting on comma splices in what my best friend was saying.
So, maybe not plenty of other people....
-Liz
My best friend is home from school for a few days. We got together yesterday, did a little shopping, went out to lunch, and caught up on all of the horrible things that have happened since we last spoke. We went back to her place around 7:30p and she invited another friend over, someone I went to high school with (though she was a few years ahead of me), but hadn't seen in quite some time.
It was a little awkward, but I can deal with that. My best friend had mentioned this person was working on a book (she's going to grad school so she can teach creative writing) and I thought, "Ooo! Common ground!" She had done a reading just the night before. Upon learning about this, I thought that maybe this reunion could open new doors for me. Perhaps she and I would get along and I might meet a few more creative people. She's always been into the art crowd. I figured this could be good.
Unfortunately, she and I are both writers, but that's where the similarities stop. I write fiction; she writes nonfiction. I've completed a decent number of manuscripts; she's still working on her first. I never really had formal training; she's getting her master's. The list goes on and on.
She spoke about how unmotivated she is to finish her project. How she keeps making deadlines that never pan out. She'd spent the entire day writing. And I tried to sympathize. But the problem is, I don't really have those issues. I don't make deadlines because I don't need to make deadlines. If I'm going to write, I'm going to write, and I'll produce several thousand words in a matter of hours, and have them edited before I close up shop. I have no problem coming up with story lines that span multiple books. And I'm fairly young, so I'm not all that worried about rushing to get published right now.
The more we talked, the more I realized that those great ideas I had weren't going to pan out. And that's okay. Everyone is different. I might not click with her, but I click with plenty of other people.
And then I had a few drinks and started commenting on comma splices in what my best friend was saying.
So, maybe not plenty of other people....
-Liz
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